


When the Clock Strikes

by beejohnlocked



Series: Desus Holiday Bingo 2K17 [5]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, New Year's Eve, Paul asked her to, cheesy flirting, in a good way, maggie is manipulative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beejohnlocked/pseuds/beejohnlocked
Summary: It's New Year's Eve. Maggie pretty much forces Daryl to go to Hillltop's party. Daryl owes her one.





	When the Clock Strikes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CanonCannon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanonCannon/gifts).



> I made it! My final story in the Holiday Desus Bingo! This prompt was New Year's Eve so I saved it for last, namely, New Year's Eve! Enjoy.

"Daryl, come _on_." Maggie's face was serious, but he wouldn't budge.

"No way. Absolutely fuckin' not."

The formerly stern face crumpled into manipulative, yet wholly effective tears.

"Why not?!" Maggie demanded. "Daryl Dixon, you give me one good reason that you won't come to Hilltop's New Year's Eve bash!"

Daryl could think of a dozen good reasons, and only most of them had to do with Paul being there. In his opinion, that was the only one he needed.

_Sorry Maggie, but the guy I've been head over heels in love with for ages is going to be there, and I know he doesn't feel the same way, and I can handle that much, but I really can't stomach the thought of having to watch him kissing some other guy at midnight._

I mean really. How could he begin to _try_ saying something like that? It genuinely wasn't possible, so he did the next best thing in his mind. He shrugged.

That was not the right decision.

Maggie expanded, _physically expanded_ , like a balloon or a very emotional pigeon, and simply _unleashed_ upon Daryl.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me? Are. You. Kidding. Me. Seriously, Daryl, I love you, but I have to wonder how sane you are right now. This is the first time everyone has gotten together from the communities! Hilltop has the room, so we have the party. I mean, would you _really_ not go if it were Alexandria throwing the party?"

Daryl did not dare shrug this time, so he used his words. A couple of them, anyway.

"Not sure. Maybe."

Wrong decision again.

Maggie turned into an actual stone sculpture. Immovable and not to be fucked with.

"Tell me something, Daryl," she took a breath while he braced himself for the inevitable impact, "Why do I get the feeling that you would be more than willing to do this for Rick, but when I ask you, I may as well be threatening to put your dick into a meat grinder?"

Congratulations to Maggie, she managed to make him speechless. Daryl had absolutely no idea what to say to this. He never meant to come across that way. Was he thrilled to be in a large group? No. Was he pumped up at the thought of being face-to-face with a man so beautiful he could make the soulless cry? A man who had also shown immense kindness and compassion, as well as a keen intelligence and ability to outsmart pretty much everyone? A man who made Daryl feel like he was itchy all the time but constantly talked to him, sometimes flirted, anyway? A man who surely had a date tonight with how much that savior Al had been eyeing him? No. No, not at all. As far as he was concerned, New Year's eve did not exist. Daryl wanted to hide in his house and not come out until it was well past midnight.

What Daryl wasn't prepared for was Maggie taking it personally. Rick may have been his brother, but Maggie was his sister and of course he would do anything for her. He knew he was fighting a losing battle from the moment she approached him but he had to at least put forth a protest. He wouldn't be Daryl Dixon if he didn't.

"I'll go, okay?" he choked out, wanting to stop this before it went any further. Maggie deflated slightly but still looked skeptical. Daryl placed an hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "I'll go."

Maggie gave a firm nod, her mouth unsmiling, but she couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up. God dammit, the woman was too cunning for her own good.

"See you tonight," she says as she turned, left Daryl's porch, and headed determinedly in the direction of Tara's house. Daryl shook his head in amusement and realized he would need to find something suitable to wear.

 _Fuck_.

********************

Later that evening, Daryl walked through the Hilltop gates with Rick and Michonne and forced himself to stop fidgeting. Both of them looked like they'd walked out of a fashion magazine or something. Rick had traded in his jeans for slacks and wore a new-looking blue button down shirt. He even had a suit jacket with it. But with all that, his face had kept its rugged, grizzly appearance. Michonne looked like she wanted to eat him alive. Daryl couldn't really blame her. As for Michonne herself, she had somehow gotten ahold of a short red party dress. The top was all lacy and fitted and the skirt was loose and flowy and followed the sway of her hips. Rick couldn't keep his eyes or hands off of her and the blatant sexual tension flowing off the two of them was making Daryl feel extremely awkward. They were going to have a good night at least, that was for damn sure.

Daryl looked at his own ensemble skeptically. He wore a black button down shirt and pants, both of which were tighter than his taste, but Michonne insisted they were the _proper_ fit, unlike his normal clothing. She'd also made him wear a skinny black tie and topped it off with a dark grey vest and shiny black dress shoes. Daryl felt fucking ridiculous. He'd never worn clothing this fancy before, and he still wasn't sure where the Grimes' had gotten the items, probably from one of the empty houses, he supposed.

If that wasn't enough, Michonne had also styled his hair. He was terrified she would try to take a scissors to it, but she shook her head.

"The length is fine. All you need is a good blowout and a little style."

He didn't know what the fuck that meant, but half an hour later, his hair was shiny and framed his face in fluffy layers. And he could actually see his face. Whether that was a good or bad thing, he wasn't sure, which he told Michonne. She punched him in the shoulder and told him to shut his pretty trap.

As they walked toward Barrington, Daryl had the sudden horrifying and irrational fear that everyone would see him and laugh. That perhaps, he looked just as silly as he felt in this getup. It was a damn New Year's Eve party, not the red carpet.

"You look great," Michonne reassured as they approached the doors to the massive ballroom. "Trust me."

Daryl nodded and gave a weak smile. He braced himself as they opened the doors. _Don't freak out. You know almost everyone here. It's just a stupid party_.

But predictably, their entrance ended up being like something out of a cheesy movie. A hush fell over the room and Daryl heard an audible gasp coming from someone he was pretty certain was Enid. The urge to turn around and sprint was almost unbearable now; only Michonne's hand gripping his elbow stopped him.

Then Maggie broke the silence by fucking howling and everyone followed suit with whistles and catcalls and shouts of "looking _good_ " before turning their attention back to other things. Daryl needed a drink. And fast. He hadn't seen Paul when he walked in, probably off somewhere making out with Al. Daryl tried not to feel too sorry for himself as he ladled some punch into a glass. He hoped someone had already spiked it and his prayers were answered when he took his first sip. It burned down his throat and settled warmly into his chest.

"Watch out. It's almost lethal."

Daryl froze at the voice behind him. Fuck, shit, shit, _shit_. He was hoping he'd have a chance to get a little more drunk before coming face to face with Paul, but clearly that wasn't in the cards. As much as part of him wanted to, Daryl knew he couldn't just stare at the table in front of him and wait for the Paul to leave, so he took a few more quick drinks before turning around, and--

Oh. _Oh_.

Daryl's heart skipped enough beats that he felt momentarily lightheaded, then began galloping in triple time. He was going to pass out, wasn't he? He was literally going to swoon over the perfection of the man in front of him. Daryl took a few deep breaths as the dizzy feeling eased up enough for him to just...look.

Paul stood in front of him, closer than he needed to be. Much closer, in fact. He was dressed similarly to Daryl, only his shirt was dove grey and his vest was black. His clothing accentuated his slim lines, but he couldn't hide the lean muscle underneath. Paul's hair was parted on the side and fell in soft waves. Daryl had to physically stop himself from reaching out to touch it. His beard had been trimmed a bit, too. Paul was always well-groomed, especially considering the circumstances. Daryl marveled at how someone could manage to look that good during an apocalypse and wondered how often Paul must raid beauty supply stores for maintenance.

But this was something else. Paul looked more gorgeous than Daryl had ever seen, and he was carrying himself differently, full of a nervous energy Daryl hadn't seen in him before. Paul's eyes bored into him, tracking slowly up and down his body, full of... _something_. At first, Daryl wasn't sure what, but then Paul licked his lips and locked eyes with him and Daryl felt that dizzy sensation come over him again as he understood.

Paul was attracted to him. _Paul_ was _attracted_ to _him_. Daryl almost laughed. The guy had been flirting with him for ages, but Daryl had always shrugged it off as him just being his little shit self. He found it impossible to believe that a man like Paul could ever have any interest in him. If the look on his face was any indication though, Daryl had been mistaken.

How long had they been staring? He wasn't sure, but one of them had to speak, so Daryl took it upon himself to break the silence.

"Hi," he said, his voice only slightly higher pitched than usual. "You look...really nice." _Good one, Dixon. Very smooth_.

"Hi. So do you." Paul was fucking glowing. His eyes twinkled and the lights around the room reflected in his hair. "I was hoping you'd come."

Daryl's heart stuttered. "Yeah?"

Paul stepped closer, essentially trapping Daryl between himself and the table. "Yeah. In fact, I kinda begged Maggie."

Daryl flushed hotly. "You're kiddin'." He had to be. There was no way Paul Rovia, model of perfection, could actually be serious about wanting Daryl there so badly he had begged for it.

"No, I'm not," Paul's fingers brushed against the back of his hand and Daryl repressed a shiver. "She was sure you'd never go for it. I told her to use any means necessary-within reason, of course." He smiled as he laced his fingers with Daryl's, and he couldn't _help_ but shiver this time.

Paul took a deep breath. "See, here's the thing. I've been desperately into you from the moment we met, Daryl, but somewhere along the way, it became something else. Something more." He looked at his feet for a moment and Daryl quickly used his unoccupied hand to clean out his ears, not sure he was hearing right. Did Paul say-? Did he mean-? _What?!_

Paul's eyes raised again, and he looked at Daryl with what could only be described as adoration. _Adoration_. For _him_! Again, _what?!_ "I've wanted to tell you. God, I've wanted to, and I've tried. So many times. I was just never sure what to say, or how to say it." He squeezed Daryl's hand lightly. "I tried flirting. A lot. Sometimes, I even thought you might be flirting back, but I just wasn't sure."

Daryl knew he looked like a dying fish right about now gaping and gulping and trying to form words. Paul reached out and took Daryl's other hand.

"So, let me just say this. I love you, Daryl. And if you feel the same, and I hope you do, I think it's high time we make this thing official." Paul's color was high and he looked so nervous and hopeful. If Daryl thought Paul had never looked more beautiful when he'd first approached a few minutes back, this new Paul blew the old one out of the water.

_Say something. Say it._

"Okay." _Fuck_. "I mean, yeah. I mean, I love you too," he sighed, shaking his head, and Paul laughed softly. There was something Daryl had to be sure of first. "But what about Al?"

Paul looked shocked and then burst out laughing, his entire body shaking with it. It was kind of annoying, actually. Daryl wasn't blind to how much that kid followed Paul around, constantly talking to him and looking at him like a needy puppy. _Dumbass, he just told you he loved you and asked you to be with him._ Daryl forced himself to swallow his irrational jealousy enough to let Paul respond.

"Daryl, Al is into Maggie."

"What?"

Paul nodded. "Scout's honor. He's had a thing for her ever since she pointed a gun at him. He thinks she's a goddess. He knows she's my best friend, and well...he comes to me. For someone to talk to and whatnot."

Now Daryl was annoyed for a different reason. "And you talk to him? What about Glenn? He's been gone less than a year. And Maggie just had a baby!"

Paul sighed softly. "Daryl, he's a kid with a crush. I listen to him moon over her and empathize with his unrequited feelings. Remember, until a few minutes ago, I thought I was in the same boat."

Daryl blushed. "Sorry, I didn't know. Saw him hanging around, and I thought that he had a thing for you. I thought your flirting with me was just joking around. I didn't realize how you really felt."

Paul let go of his hands and placed his own on the sides of Daryl's face. "Don't apologize. And neither of us knew about the other. But now that we've settled how we feel, I would really like to kiss you right now."

Daryl was suddenly aware they were in a room full of people and blocking the punch bowl. "Here? Right now?"

Paul nodded, that hopeful look back in his eyes. He could get Daryl to do damn near anything with that face. But he still felt a little bashful.

"It ain't midnight yet, though. Thought people always wait till then."

"We can kiss then too, but why wait?" Paul had lifted to his toes and his face was now breathing distance from Daryl's own. "Honey, I've been wanting to kiss you for so long, I'm about ready to die."

If Daryl were honest with himself, he didn't want to wait either. He'd already spent months in love with this stupidly perfect man, thinking he'd never get a chance. Now that he finally had everything he wanted, the thought of holding off longer because of some stupid tradition seemed completely ludicrous. He looked at the clock on the wall that someone had once set based on the sun's position to make it as close to accurate as possible. It read 7:57.

"How about when the clock strikes 8, we can kiss?"

Paul glanced at the clock and grinned. "I think that's an excellent idea. After all, it's midnight somewhere, right?"

"And why wait for a ball to drop?"

"I was kinda hoping for something else to _rise_."

Jesus Christ, flirty little fuck. May as well give as good as he was getting then. "I'm hoping to blow something other than a party horn." He barely managed to keep a straight face at Paul's shocked expression.

"Well, then, um, is it 8 yet?" His arms had snaked themselves around Daryl's neck and Daryl's own were around Paul's waist and there was definite _friction_ in the way they were pressed together.

Daryl's eyes flicked to the clock. "Ninety seconds."

Paul's mouth lifted to Daryl's ear. "Shame," he whispered. I was hoping we'd be back to my place by now." Daryl felt the flick of a tongue against his earlobe.

Fuck it. Before he could think further, without concern for who might see at that moment, Daryl captured Paul's mouth with his own and was plundering it with his lips and tongue. Their arms wrapped tighter around each other, pulling the other in like they were trying to fuse their bodies together. Paul's moan reverberated into him and Daryl felt strong, slim legs wrap about his waist as Paul hopped up. Daryl caught his back and ass as the kiss deepened further, Paul nipping at him and doing dirty things with his tongue as one hand roamed Daryl's chest.

Daryl broke the kiss, gasping for air and still holding Paul, but suddenly aware of their surroundings. "We're in public, you know."

Paul was completely undaunted by Daryl pulling away and simply moved his mouth to Daryl's neck, licking and sucking on it. "Then let's go somewhere private."

"But what about the party? It's New Year's Eve. Maggie-"

"Maggie is probably planning a new party as we speak, one celebrating us finally hooking up." Indeed, when Daryl looked over Paul's shoulder and across the room, Maggie was grinning at him and silently clapping and giving thumbs up while Enid stood next to her, making kissy faces. Jesus Christ.

A scan of the rest of the room showed a lot of other people Daryl knew looking at him as well. Tara, Rosita, and Aaron all looked annoyingly smug. Carol was practically dancing and wiping away proud tears. She clutched onto Ezekiel while he made his own mark on her neck, much like Paul was doing to him. Rick looked a little shell-shocked, oblivious man that he tended to be about emotional stuff, but still happy for Daryl. Michonne just looked like the cat that got the cream and way too proud of the job she'd done on his makeover.

Fuck midnight. "Let's go." Daryl was still holding Paul so he ran them toward the ballroom doors as the other man laughed. Daryl smiled and vowed to spend the rest of the night discovering all the other sounds of pleasure and joy he could cause Paul to make.

And he did.

**Author's Note:**

> So. Bingo!! Thanks everyone for reading all of these. It was so much fun and I hope for more soon! Next up I'm gonna try to finish my WIP. :)
> 
> FYI my twd side blog on Tumblr is desus-trash.


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